


Sweetness

by allourheroes, Palpalou



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Canon compliant through Season 2, F/M, Family, Future Fic, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Rough Sex, Somewhat Dubious Consent (Werewolves), Teen Wolf Big Bang, Werewolf Sex, fic and fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palpalou/pseuds/Palpalou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott has finally joined Derek's pack and is only just realizing how much things have changed since high school.</p>
<p>[Teen Wolf Big Bang 2012]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetness

**Author's Note:**

> So, I put off editing and coding this for basically _forever_ (a year, whoops), but here it is, improved a bit from its original posting on LJ. As it was written a year ago, it's future fic that is canon compliant through season two...and we all know 3A is over and has changed everything again now... Well, what can you do.
> 
> Fanart is by the wonderful [daffenger](daffenger.tumblr.com) and fic is by me, allourheroes.

Scott figured the aptitude for medicine must run in his blood. It was amazing how  _well_  he did in his biology classes, considering how poorly he’d done in just about every subject previously. His mom was a nurse though, and he had years of experience at Deaton’s side; those apparently did wonders for him. Once things had started to calm and Derek had better established himself as the alpha, Scott found himself a little less stressed out and with actual  _time_  to devote to his education. It was hard to deny he’d have a future when it was already so quickly upon him.

Sure, it wasn’t until after high school and he’d taken a few years of community college that he discovered what he wanted to do, but once he applied himself--and it did take effort, but he had the interest to back it up--he was able to get into veterinary school with few problems. Deaton’s letter of recommendation definitely helped things along and he’d had  _years_  of experience. He’d needed to intern, but there was no question of how easy that would be or where he’d do it.

When Scott had graduated and returned to Beacon Hills, Deaton offered him a part of the practice--which Scott was more than happy to accept. If he was honest, he’d also been expecting it. Deaton wanted someone else who could deal with animals and werewolves alike and when Scott started his studies, it seemed pretty damn perfect. It would’ve been more so were he himself not afflicted by lycanthropy… It tended to make certain animals--and werewolves--more than a little uncomfortable, but, hey, it was just their instinct. He understood and would help them overcome the doubts they had about trusting him. (If he couldn’t, he wouldn’t be very good at his job, would he?)

It was also only after his return that he actually, finally,  _really_  joined Derek’s pack, despite the fact that his still completely human best friend had already been a part of it for years at that point. That had seemed weird to him when he’d first heard, not so much now.

Stiles hadn’t gone far for school, trying to keep close to his dad. It had also brought him closer to Derek. Well, to be fair, Scott had only  _recently_  found out that Stiles and Derek had been getting “close” back when they were in high school. How he hadn’t known then was something of a mystery, what with his werewolf senses and all, but, then again, he had been pretty preoccupied with Allison on top of all the shit that went down during those stressful years. He could also admit to himself that he could be pretty oblivious to the obvious, but…it was still weird. After all, they were, like… _in love_. He was still getting used to it.

Scott and Allison had gotten back together a few times, only to break up again. There had been a good year or so there, even partially long-distance--perhaps  _because_  of the distance--that they’d been together without much fighting. He thought--hell, he still sometimes thinks--that they’d be together forever, that they’d get married and have kids and his life could be…some semblance of normal. Chris Argent didn’t seem overly opposed to them anymore, even. He wasn’t  _overjoyed_  at the idea of his daughter ending up with a werewolf, but he knew Scott had been a good kid, had grown into a kind young man with a future.

Maybe she’d realize that again, take him back. He kept hoping she might. She’d hang out with members of the pack sometimes, as they’d grown to trust her a little more and she them. To an extent, of course. Erica would get very protective of Boyd whenever she was around, but for good reason. Erica had never-- _could_  never--forgive and forget seeing him full of Allison’s arrows as he stood to protect  _her_.

Allison held a grudge against Derek that never quite went away either. It was only after Stiles had a very serious “talk” with her--there may have been a good amount of shouting and a hard slap involved--that she could be in the same room as him without glaring daggers or plotting against him. Stiles  _may have_  pulled his own “dead mom” card, awful as it was, to get her to see that life went on. It would  _always_  be painful, but it wasn’t worth it to let that pain and anger control you. Derek hadn’t killed her mother. He hadn’t even  _bitten_  her on purpose. Victoria Argent had tried to kill Scott and Derek had saved him. That her mom couldn’t live with that--because her family was _crazy_ , Stiles would remind her--was her own decision.

This conversation had led to a lot of mutual sobbing and guilt and then the attempt to relieve each other of aforementioned guilt until they were both too tired to argue. It had been a cleansing day, if not completely successful. Stiles was just happy she had stopped shooting and shooting  _at_  Derek, even if the alpha  _did_  get on his nerves sometimes.

Yes, even through this point, Scott had not known Stiles and Derek were more than just maybe-almost-friends. All he’d had on his mind was Allison.

The pack, for the most part, was doing well. Jackson had disappeared for a while after the whole kanima ordeal, leaving Lydia a little heartbroken and very vulnerable around Peter--those had been dark times--but he had come back. They now thought themselves better than everyone else, as they always had, but with much more zeal, Lydia at her immunity that had once been such a plague and Jackson at his lycanthropy. He had always been better at everything than Scott before his  _co-captain_  had been turned, so any feelings of inferiority to  _Scott_  were long gone by now. They were, to any outsider, the perfect (rich) couple. They had gotten married about two years ago and even without real claws, Lydia had taken back her place as head bitch in charge. As maid of honor, Allison had found her secondary duty in apologizing to guests Lydia had been…less than pleasant to. It allowed Lydia to do what she wanted while still preventing the people around her from planning a vicious revolt.

Jackson having left after she had been brave enough to face him as the kanima and to _save his life_ in doing so had been quite unwilling to pander to him once he had returned. The two of them lived in a nice house up a little further into the hills than everyone else. It had been helped along by their parents, but Lydia, certainly, and Jackson, as well--for the most part--had gone into their professions based on their merits. Lydia hadn’t quite won her Fields Medal yet, but she was well on her way, working hard at it. Jackson was a lawyer, it only made sense. He might’ve had a bit of an unfair advantage with his werewolf senses, using it to rip his opponents to shreds, but at least he wasn’t _literally_ tearing them apart. He may have taken some satisfaction in knowing that he could though, especially when things didn’t go exactly as planned. Despite Peter’s involvement and very _presence_ among the Beacon Hills wolves, the couple had joined the pack. It had even been Lydia’s idea, given the voice of reason she was for the both of them. It didn’t make him look weak if it made him _literally_ stronger.

Erica and Boyd ran a sex shop together. The kind of place that had  _everything_  but made anyone who dared overcome their embarrassment and enter the shop rather…regretful. It could get _very_ uncomfortable as Erica would stare, raise an eyebrow, and/or wink if a customer so much as glanced in her general direction. Boyd was better, but a customer would be extremely lucky to catch him working the store alone. He’d even let people get away with calling him  _Vernon_. Erica enjoyed the power she had over everyone, showing their patrons mercy by  _not_  gracing them with her glowing presence would’ve been a crime. Hey, she could  _smell_  their nervousness, their fear, their arousal, of course she used it to her own advantage--and amusement. She especially enjoyed reading sections of Stiles’s new books aloud. After all, accurate werewolf porn was hard to find, but always nice to share.

Stiles’s career made Scott almost as uncomfortable as Erica liked to make everyone else. What was he supposed to think though? His best friend wrote “adult novels.” About werewolves. Sure, he’d screw up the little details to keep hunters off their backs, but still… It freaked him out. Stiles-- _Stiles_ \--knew all of those things from  _experience_. The guy had always been an avid researcher, always very thorough, but Scott could only fool himself for so long into believing _that_  was where the information came from. He never would’ve read any of the books himself, but Erica had read it  _to_  him. It was too late before he’d realized what it was and slammed his hands over his ears. That memory would  _stick_. Each time he could smell what Stiles and his alpha had done, he’d be forced to _picture_  it, thanks to Erica. When he tried to express his outrage at this, she had simply shrugged and told him it was “hot.” It became more disconcerting after that, if anything.

Derek was actually a pretty great alpha, Scott had to admit. He kept everyone in line and under control without taking away their freedoms. He and Stiles… They  _worked_. Not just as a couple, but as pack leaders. Besides occasionally Peter, Stiles was the one who could change Derek’s mind, call him out on his bullshit, and even dominate  _him_. As a human. His instincts and strategies put them all to shame. However, Derek was far better at training them. Peter was still creeping around, but he wasn’t killing anyone. It was about all they could ask for.

Everyone had come a long way since high school. Well…everyone except Isaac.

Isaac had been turned and lost his father almost immediately after. It hadn’t been such a loss at the time, what with the amount of abuse his father was doing to him, but it  _hurt_. Isaac had turned to the pack as his new family only for it to be torn apart. Derek’s leadership skills at the time had certainly been lacking, but Isaac was the only one who remained at his side throughout. Isaac had looked to Derek and to  _Scott_  of all people for advice on what he should be doing. Isaac _trusted_ Scott when Erica and Boyd had abandoned ship, turned to  _him_  to find answers. Things had changed with the alpha pack, with the position Peter Hale took in the pack, but Scott would sometimes catch Isaac just _looking_  at him and he’d smile at the other boy. Isaac’s face would practically light up when he did.

Isaac hadn’t really found anyone. He had tried, only to be taken advantage of. His newfound confidence in being a werewolf had only taken him so far and when someone seemed kind? Well, it was hard for him not to fall for it. He tended not to let himself get involved much anymore. He was pretty happy to just be with the pack, even if he’d feel like the odd one out when everyone curled around their mates after the full moon.

Isaac was alright though… Could be worse.

~

On his mother’s insistence, Scott stays with her in his childhood home. Once Scott is well and truly settled, he attends a pack meeting. Everyone is there--including Peter. He feels strange about the whole thing, but a pack made the wolves in it stronger, and more than just physically. It would help them keep control, even during the full moon.

Scott had been okay while he’d gone away to college, but he had generally isolated himself during “that time of the month”…or he’d call Allison. There had only been a couple of _really_ close calls, but drunk dudes just assume they imagine the glowing eyes and fangs. Usually the shock of having attacked someone, the look of fear they get, is enough to shock him out of it. After years of being a werewolf, it got easier, but he was by no means perfect.

The pack meeting were held, of course, at the Hale house--Hale- _Stilinski_  house, Stiles would probably correct. Sometimes they took place inside and sometimes out in the woods, both of which had their own special benefits. Full moon meetings always took place outside though, because Stiles did  _not_  want a bunch of disobedient puppies ruining his house, or so he’d tell them.

Tonight, they were inside. The living room was surprisingly cozy, but, then again, it was obvious Derek and Stiles--if not the whole pack minus Scott--had put a lot of effort into making it that way. The stench of death and rot no longer surrounded the place and Peter had been kicked out years ago despite his complaint that it was the  _Hale_  family house and he was indeed a Hale. Derek had almost let him stay. That was until Stiles had had a very serious talk with him about all the things Peter had done. When he got to what Peter had done to him  _personally_ , Derek had needed no more convincing. Peter may have been worse to the others, but none of them were Derek’s  _mate_.

Isaac waves and Scott somehow finds himself squished on half of the couch between Isaac and Boyd as Erica sprawls across the other half, feet tucked under Boyd’s thighs. Lydia and Jackson are on some sort of ski trip or some other ridiculous thing. Scott is uncertain what exactly they were doing; he had seen Stiles receive the text, frown, explain, and move on. He hadn’t quite heard the explanation, too busy watching as Derek nuzzled his best friend while he spoke.

Isaac cocks his head, “It’s hard to be happy for them when they act like that, isn’t it? Cute, but…gross.” His nose scrunches up as he speaks, smirking at Scott.

“Yeah,” Scott replies immediately with a laugh, turning his head towards Isaac before realizing how close they are. He turns back, assuming it’s too awkward to stare with so little distance between them. Out of his peripheral vision, he can still see the other beta watching him.

“You two going to start talking or just make us watch?” Boyd asks after a moment goes by in which Derek and Stiles exceed the proper amount of strange affection.

“Shhh,” Erica chastises. “I was enjoying the show.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Thanks,” he tells her sarcastically, “I live to entertain.” Derek stops his near molestation of his mate, but sits closer than he needs to. Stiles has noticed how Derek’s behavior has changed, and he knows exactly why. They don’t have anything to say to the pack about it yet, not until they have an answer, so he ignores the questioning gazes of the betas, Peter included, and clears his throat. “Scott, would you like to introduce yourself to the group?” Stiles asks, not sure if he’s channeling a camp counselor or a kindergarten teacher, not that there was much difference. The worst part was what an apt discretion of his role in the pack it was. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than when they called him “mom.” Officially, they were no longer allowed to do that since Peter had followed the example of the others and it had gone from funny-cute to awkward-creepy-weird very quickly.

Scott looks around, sees a room of eyes staring at him expectantly, “Oh. Really?” The stare continues. “I’m Scott. We all…went to high school together,” he finishes lamely.

“Ah, Scott. You’re joining my pack,” Peter says, smirking. “Just like I knew you would.”

Erica looks vaguely disgusted at Peter, “Stop being so creepy.”

The entire group, minus Derek, nods, side-eyeing Peter. “What?” the ex-alpha asks, holding his hands up innocently.

“Why is he still here?” Scott stage whispers to Stiles.

Stiles opens his mouth to respond, but Derek answers for him, “Because it’s better for him to be here, where we can keep an eye on him, than out in the world without a leash.” He’s less wary around his uncle now, but he’ll never really trust him again. He questions not killing him--or letting the hunters kill him, although only incidentally--but the thought of losing him again, even if he was the one to slash his throat in the first place, brings about a strange ache in his chest.

Stiles’s jaw drops for a second, staring at Derek, before he flails. “You made a dog joke!” He grins. “I am such a good influence on you.”

Derek glares at him, and it’s pretty much the same glare he’s always aimed in Stiles’s direction, everyone is just more familiar with it now. “No,” he says, not that it really means anything.

“I’m assuming I can make dog jokes again,” Stiles continues, nodding to himself as if it has already been okayed.

“It’s not like you ever stopped.” Erica props her head on her hand, elbow resting on the arm of the couch.

“I cut back!” Stiles defends, receiving disbelieving looks from everyone _including_ the Hales. He sighs. “You’re _so_ going to regret not trusting me on this, guys,” he murmurs half under his breath, although he knows they’ll all hear him.

“So, do we have actual business to attend to tonight or are you just keeping me from embarrassing virgins buying vibrators for no reason?” the blonde woman asks, sitting up straight so that she could stretch out her legs, leaning on Boyd to her other side now instead of the arm of the sofa.

Stiles has the beginning of a pout, “Maybe I just miss your stupid faces, alright?” Peter opens his mouth and Stiles adds, “Not yours.”

“How often do we do...this?” Scott asks, gesturing to the group.

Stiles’s new expression starts as a glare, but turns sarcastic quickly, “Gee, you know, Scott, we only have these to torture you. Why don’t we--”

“Stiles,” Derek growls.

Stiles huffs in annoyance, “I’m feeling seriously under appreciated here, guys.”

Erica opens her mouth, but sees Peter’s smirk and freezes, she sucks in a breath and smiles sweetly.

“The full moon is in two days and there are hunters coming into town. You’re not going to be able to run around and get your wolf on like usual.” Stiles chews on his lip. “I know we usually meet here at the house, but you guys are just going to have to be on your own this time. It’s too risky.” He and Derek already have a room ready for locking Peter away for the night, but they know the others can be trusted to take care of themselves. It’s less _fun_ , of course, denying them freedom and the bonding of the pack the full moon allows for, but Chris Argent seemed _worried_. The pack had to stay under the radar and the hunters--with some help from Allison’s father--would move on.

Scott isn’t sure how to describe what he’s feeling at the announcement. If he’s honest, he’s happy to have more time before he must actually adjust to the ways of the pack. More time to do things how he always has, to hide himself a little bit longer…but he’s still disappointed. He’s never had the chance to run around under the full moon, to surround himself with pack, for his lycanthropy to make him belong and to be able to embrace it.

~

“Why didn’t you join the pack before?” Isaac asks, leaning against his car.

Scott’s beside him, staring at the other beta. “To be honest, I thought doing it on my own would be better. You saw how that turned out.” He scratches his head.

“You had more control than I did, at the time,” the blonde admits.

Scott can feel the slightest shift, the way Isaac’s shoulder just barely brushes his and hears a breath like a chuckle. He turns his head, watches the man’s wry expression. “What?”

“It just…” Isaac shakes his head. “It seemed like we could’ve been friends.” He chances a glance in Scott’s direction, holds it when his eyes meet the brunette’s.

“We were,” Scott protests.

Isaac makes a noise in his throat, disbelieving but not quite brave enough to fully voice it.

Scott turns to face him, side sliding against then pushing away from the metal of the door. He wants to explain it away, to say that he had been there, but when he thinks on it, he realizes it may be a bit of an overstatement.

That hesitation is enough, and Isaac leaves him be.

~

The full moon passes rather uneventfully. The hunters are out prowling in the woods--which Derek is none too pleased about--while the pack holes up individually in their houses. It’s not too difficult for Derek, with his human mate there to calm him and keep him in check. Lydia is careful, but she helps Jackson through it. Erica and Boyd can lose their humanity with each other and still make it mostly unharmed. Scott advises his mother to stay at the sheriff’s house for the night and she complies.

It’s times like this that he feels most reliant on Allison, misses her. She had always been the voice, the heartbeat his senses attuned to. Her smell clinging to their bed and he’d just let himself drown in it all, when he could. There were other times, of course, when they were broken up or away for school, when he’d lose control. Even without her, he had survived, it was just hard to be alone. So, Scott does what he can, locking himself away in his mother’s house. At least it still feels like home.

Isaac doesn’t have anyone the night of the full moon. He’s become accustomed to the presence of the pack for comfort, and for stability. He keeps them in mind, he keeps his father in mind. He focuses on the people he cares about and as his claws dig into his palms, he remembers Scott. Scott at the meeting, Scott when they were sixteen and he had no one else to go to… He allows himself to think about the other beta several times over the course of the night, as he thrashes restlessly in his apartment. It’s only when morning comes that the hopelessness comes to him. He likes Scott, has been harboring feelings for him for almost as long as he’s been a werewolf now. It’s just another desire that won’t work out well for him, he’s sure, not that knowing _that_ has ever stopped him.

~

Scott feels guilty. He thinks of himself as someone who tried to make the right choices, going out of his way to be good, do good. How did he miss so many things in high school? Derek and Stiles were only the tip of the iceberg.

Scott had turned Isaac into an ally, sure, but he should have known how much the other teenager was hurting. Isaac had lost his father, his home, his life as he had lived it--not that he wasn’t in some ways lucky to have lost it--and had been hunted. Scott wanted to be there for him, he did…but Isaac was part of Derek’s pack and Scott hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. When Isaac came to him on his own, of course he’d help him. He had sought Isaac out several times for both werewolf business and just to see how he was. Those times, however, were few and over the course of a year, had filtered back down to nonexistent.

He knew, knows now, how much talking to someone meant to Isaac. Derek was obviously not a great alpha in this regard, so who else did the blonde boy really have to express his feelings to? It was too personal and he was too shy. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t strut around abusing his new power, but wasn’t that just for show anyway?

Scott shakes his head. There’s no point dwelling on what he’s done wrong when he can go out there and try to fix it.

~

Scott doesn’t miss any pack get-togethers in his effort. Stiles has been quite clear on the fact that Isaac _always_ comes to them, which is why he tries to have them so often. No one needs to admit weakness when Stiles is the one dictating these less than necessary meetings and he’s cool with being the pack mom--again, as long as _Peter_ doesn’t start calling him that. Isaac is lonely, has always been lonely, but Stiles doesn’t want him to be stuck that way. When Scott says he wants to come to as many as possible, Stiles is delighted. He does his best to schedule them around Scott’s work so as to make it easier on his best friend.

Often, another member or two of the pack, or even Allison, will attend these meetings. Jackson likes training, as is usually their purpose, but he’ll come for the occasional movie, as well. Stiles loves pulling out horror movies and following them with classic comedies and cult films.

Sometimes, it’s just Scott and Isaac with Stiles as even Derek needs time off and Peter is often banned. The three of them get along well, but Stiles will fall asleep when they begin a new movie or after he eats an extra large pizza and Scott and Isaac will stay. The two betas will finish the film, always. Scott doesn’t feel guilt anymore, but there’s a warm feeling in his gut that he thinks is a good things. The more time he spends with Isaac, the better it gets.

When _The Princess Bride_ ends, Derek scoops his sleeping mate off of the couch and does the manly equivalent of shooing Scott and Isaac out of his house.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” Scott admits. “My mom went on a _date_ tonight. She kinda…hinted about wanting the house to herself.” He cringes.

Isaac shrugs, “You could come over to my place.”

Scott agrees, that warmth blossoming in his chest as well, a nervous flutter joining it that he chooses to ignore, and follows Isaac’s car in his own.

After two frozen pizzas and another movie, Scott falls asleep on Isaac’s couch.

Isaac bites his lip and goes to bed, wondering if Scott’s smile had meant anything.

This happens three more times before Scott realizes that feeling that’s been spreading through his body is not just happiness and friendship. Isaac tells him what he’s been through, how patterns keep repeating, confides all these literal secrets in Scott that the brunette can only handle knowing that he’s here to prevent from happening again, even if he won’t tell Isaac that.

The blonde looks at him, calculatingly, the way he does before he lets Scott in on some new aspect of his life.

“What?” Scott asks, despite the candy bar he’s just shoved into his mouth.

Isaac shakes his head, “It’s stupid.”  
 The other beta frowns, lifting an eyebrow questioningly as he tries to chew through the mouthful of chocolate and peanuts.

Isaac sighs, smirking a little at the sight, “I like you, Scott.” He puts on a movie and Scott stays quiet for a long time. 

~

When Scott finally gets up the courage to do _something_ , all he ends up doing is writing a text to Isaac saying to meet him at the vet. It’s only after he sends it that he remembers being there with him when they were sixteen. A lot of important things had happened at the clinic over the years Deaton had run it. Scott hopes he’s half as good at handling just the medical aspect as Deaton had been.

Once the other beta arrives, Scott is uncertain of what to say to him. “You know that…uh. What you said.” Scott’s speech skills are unimpressive, to say the least.

The blonde raises an eyebrow, lips quirking, “Are you saying you _like_ me?” Scott’s nod is enough to make the beta feel like his chest is about to burst, but he fights through it. 

Isaac smiles at him shyly, pressing his fingers to the metal examination table. He hasn’t been able to open up to anyone since before Scott left and once he had, he’d been certain Scott would leave again. Not town, no, but the pack. There would have to be reason for that and Isaac had a feeling Allison would have something to do with it, but…

Scott’s big brown eyes are concerned, nervous, but there’s a smile responding to his own tugging at the other man’s lips. He hears Scott’s heartbeat speed up, knowing his must be doing the same. He leans over and waits for an indication Scott might want what he does.

The sound of Scott’s heart is thundering in his ears now, the other wolf’s expression uncertain, and he presses himself a bit farther. Scott’s body moves as if he has no control over it, drawn forward, and he rests his forehead against Isaac’s, a line of warmth down to the tip of his nose and a hot puff of breath mingling with his own. Isaac nuzzles into him, shifting, nosing his cheek, but Scott turns his head, meeting Isaac’s, and the kiss is almost a surprise. His eyes slip closed and after the second of shock passes, so do Isaac’s.

It’s tentative, explorative, and has just that hint of fang that changes it from the thousand or more kisses he’s shared with Allison. Not to mention the fact that Isaac isn’t as sure as she had always been with him, scared to take more than he’s allowed.

Isaac pulls away first, blushing. "Scott," he says, and he wants to bring back that confident persona he's liked wearing since he was turned, but Scott already knows that shy, sad person he still is inside. "You, uh, doing anything later?" He's been looking down since the kiss. The table with its warped reflections holds no judgment. His words were supposed to sound lecherous, but his anxiety bleeds through. He dares to glance up, biting his lip.

"Yeah," Scott says automatically. Isaac's fingertips press on the table, about to push himself away and Scott could hit his own head. "No. Uh, I mean no. I just need to--" He gestures around, "To clean up here, organize a few things, and..." He hesitates. "Um. Can you meet me at my house in..." He checks the time on his cell phone. "An hour?"

Isaac nods, "Sure. We can...figure it out then."

It's one of those conversations filled with long pauses and uncertainty, but the awkwardness is faint with such high amounts of anticipation.

~

Work is normal, meaning all animals and no supernatural creatures. It’s quiet and when Deaton asks Scott what’s on his mind, Scott tells him. Deaton, as always, is unsurprised by the turn of events. The talk is somewhat reassuring, as Scott is perfectly allowed to freak out a little and still be a bit over the moon--no pun intended--in his excitement. All in all, it’s a good talk, and Scott is reminded of how lucky he is to have Deaton, mystery that he may still be, in his life.

At the end of the day, Scott locks the door behind Deaton, happy to see that the man thinks well of him, but unsure what to make of his advice. It had been painfully cryptic, as Deaton once explained was because he knew Scott would figure it out. He goes to the back room and organizes things in his area to his liking. He sighs. Things were starting to go a very different direction than he had expected them to when he was sixteen, but when does a teenager  _really_  know what’s best?

He cleans and disinfects the table, the tools. There’s a knock on the door. Scott knows to be cautious when answering the door here, with all that’s happened, but he can only hear breathing, a heartbeat. He inhales deeply.

Allison.

His brows furrow in confusion but he goes to the door to see her there, biting her lip. There’s a rush of emotion at the sight and his gut clenches. He closes his eyes for the second it takes to unlock the door and swing it open. He remembers Isaac pulling back from their kiss, eyes blinking open, bright and searching.

He smiles at her. “Allison.” The surprise is clear in his face, his voice. “What are you doing here?” He just stands there a moment, watching her eyes flicker past him and back, and he remembers his manners, ushering her inside.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “Hey.” She steps in, shoulders hunched, “Sorry for dropping by like this. I know we haven’t been--” She pauses, turning to him, hair flipping as perfectly as it always had. “Hi,” she says again, more confidently, smiling that brilliant smile of hers. “I just…figure this is only as awkward as we make it.” She shifts her weight between her feet.

Scott laughs, but he’s so nervous his wolf is beginning to claw at his subconscious, “Yeah.”

“I miss you,” Allison admits and it’s as if the world has gone completely silent. She clears her throat, wandering around the room. She examines the various medical instruments, mouth downturned.

“Allison.” Scott swallows and Allison turns her head to the side, glancing at him while faking nonchalance, “I-- I miss you, too.” It comes out so earnestly--it is, after all, the truth. He’d still do his best to protect her, but…there was Isaac. He doesn’t know if he should tell her that or not, he’s not even sure what exactly is happening between himself and Isaac, but it definitely feels like  _something_.

Against his will, a flash of all the scratches in that box in the Laheys’ basement comes to him. He’d had Allison lock him in there for her protection, felt the pain and fear soaked into that box, the smell of blood. Isaac’s blood.

He doesn’t tell her, the words catching in his throat.

Allison spins on her heel, places a hand on his chest and a kiss on his cheek as she walks past him. "Anyway, it was good seeing you. Maybe we can go out sometime." She swallows, "You know, as friends." She flashes him that big, bright smile again and disappears out to the front.

He doesn't follow, but he hears the door fall closed behind her. Her heartbeat had sped up when she had suggested seeing him. He knew she still cared about him, as he did for her, but not how much. He had sort of thought anything happening between them again was unlikely, or, at the very least, impermanent. If he could've settled down with her back when he was sixteen, he would have. He would've promised his life to her--and _did_ , but no one should trust a teenager. He wanted to be with her forever, and she had told him she felt the same. He hadn't thought those feelings would ever change, that there ever _could_ be anyone else.

Scott sighs. He can still smell her, the scent lingering around the place, different from its normal smells. He can smell Isaac, too. He closes his eyes, remembers the other wolf's nervousness. He can feel himself smiling. Yes, they didn’t work out, but maybe this is where he should be.

~

Lydia watches as Allison approaches from the entrance of the bar, impatient to discuss anything even close to gossip. "So," she greets cheerily as Allison perches herself on the stool beside her, "How did the whole Scott thing go?" She waves her hand for emphasis, almost dismissively, as if she didn't want to know and she was doing Allison a favor by asking.

The brunette frowned, "Good... I guess. I mean, he seemed a little off." She flags down the bartender. "Like maybe he was hiding something? I don't know. Maybe he just didn't want to see me."

"Well, you _did_ break up with him. For…what? The _hundredth_ time?" she smiles meanly and Allison's shoulders slump a bit. "But you're gorgeous and he'd be stupid not to want you back anyway," Lydia adds, snapping her fingers as the bartender fails to immediately come to their service. "Vodka martini. No olive," she snaps, her eyes narrowing, and flaps a twenty dollar bill towards him. "Allison?" she prompts.

"Uh." Allison looks around, searching for some kind of inspiration. "Something fruity?" she suggests uncertainly.

Lydia rolls her eyes, "She'll have a gin and tonic."

"Lydia, I don't even like gin," Allison whispers loudly as the bartender--his nametag says "Steve"--turns away.

"Then be more decisive," Lydia retorts casually, throwing another smile to her best friend. "What do you usually get?"

"The first thing I see on the menu," Allison admits with a small shrug. 

"Ugh." She puts the twenty down on the bar as Steve hands them their drinks. She takes a sip and smiles in approval. "Maybe there's a large tip in your future after all." The bartender lifts an eyebrow, but attempts a smile. He _does_ want the tip, after all. "Anyway, I don't know why you're still so hung up on Scott when there are so many more _adorable_ fish in the sea, if puppy is what you're looking for." She raises her eyebrows, tilting her head towards a handsome young man in the back. "In the less literal sense of the word," she adds, drinking a little more.

"You are so obvious." Allison quirks her lips and looks at Lydia like she's crazy, but still gives the guy a once over. "He _is_ cute, though."

"Want me to go talk you up? I could tell him about our lesbian experimental phase," she says, checking herself or their possible target in her makeup mirror. Allison isn't quite sure which.

The brunette blushes even as she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

~ 

Scott is late for meeting Isaac, forcing the other man to make small talk with his mom as he runs into the shower and scrubs himself clean as quickly as possible, trying not to notice how _good_ Isaac smells as he explains himself and heads upstairs.

He emerges from the shower, dresses with some hesitation, and heads downstairs only to find that Isaac has already found something for them to do.

They head to the drive-ins knowing it’ll be entertaining. There’s an older werewolf movie playing in a double feature with a new one in honor of the upcoming Halloween.

Scott laughs as the man on screen undergoes a mass of special effects to turn him into a “monster.” The actor mimes a howl as the sound effect is played and Isaac imitates it playfully next to him. The screen’s wolf goes after a woman who screams, hand clutched over her mouth, and Isaac offers the popcorn to Scott as he speaks for the character, “‘Honey, did you forget to shave?’” One eyebrow is raised and he’s leaning in close.

“It _is_ pretty scary,” Scott tells him, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Isaac sobers, “You’re right. That special effects job is downright terrifying.” He tilts his head, watching the screen silently, “I don’t look like that, do I?” He’s half-joking, but there’s a hint of sincerity underneath his light tone.

Scott scrunches up his face, thinking. “I can’t really remember what you look like as a wolf,” he admits.

Isaac closes his eyes and breathes out a long breath, fingers flexing. The hair slowly growing around his sideburns, teeth elongating into fangs, fingernails turning to claws, ears lengthening to points… He opens his eyes, golden irises meeting Scott’s brown.

Studying him, Scott is still for a moment, long enough for Isaac to squirm a little, feeling uncomfortable under such close scrutiny. He starts to turn back, closing his eyes, when he feels a hand on his cheek. He leans into it.

Scott sees his features turn fully human again, blue eyes slowly sliding open to meet his. “You’re beautiful. Like that or not.” He grimaces at himself, “That probably sounded pretty lame.”

“A little,” Isaac concedes. “But it was…sweet.” He smiles, a hand tracing the seam of Scott’s shirt on the side, fingers gripping lightly. “I’m assuming your instincts can tell you the same as mine,” the blonde says, insinuating himself closer to Scott, movie almost forgotten as the sounds continue through the radio.

As words fail him, Scott instead nods, happy he remembered to undo his seatbelt when they got there. He’d only ever come here once with Allison and it had gotten awkward when the thing had started cutting into his chest.

In the blink of an eye, Isaac is practically on him, mouth devouring his. His lips part and Isaac’s tongue delves in, seeking his. He groans into it before he can even realize what’s happening, hands splitting themselves between Isaac’s neck and his side, sliding under the other wolf’s shirt. Isaac is gripping his and he can hear it as those claws tear the fabric. Isaac breaks the kiss, fumbling under the driver’s seat until it slides all the way back, crawling into Scott’s lap.

Scott has a second to breathe and Isaac is on him again, body hot against his, a pleasant weight straddling his lap. Perhaps because it’s been a while or maybe just the enthusiasm of the other beta, but Scott is _hard_. The blonde is making little noises, rubbing himself against Scott’s growing erection.

“You can fuck me, if you want,” Isaac pants, pressing his temple to Scott’s.

Scott’s brain nearly short-circuits and he’s already going through all the ways of getting their clothes off as soon as he can before the rest of his mind can catch up. Isaac is fumbling with the button of his jeans and Scott places a hand over his, stilling it. The blonde looks at him questioningly, lips slightly swollen and red. “Wait,” Scott says, regretting it even as he does.

Isaac pulls back, “But--”

“We don’t have to do this now, you know,” the brunette tells him. Big, earnest eyes stare into Isaac’s as they fill with confusion. The other man looks as if he’s been rejected, shifting to return to his own seat. Scott grabs his hips and Isaac looks from the hands to Scott’s face.

The blonde opens his mouth to speak, uncertainty coloring his features.

“I like you,” Scott says, glancing down as he does. “A lot,” his eyes meet Isaac’s again. He listens to Isaac’s breathing, his heartbeat. His mouth quirks back up into a smile and then Isaac is kissing him again.

His hands slide down instinctively from Isaac’s hips to his ass. Isaac moans into his mouth, grinding against what had once been getting _less_ hard. Isaac slides a hand between them, cupping Scott’s erection through his jeans. He rests his forehead against Scott’s, blonde curls squished against him. Scott’s breathing is harsh as Isaac _squeezes_ ever so lightly. “You sure?” he breathes.

Scott hates himself for doing it, but he nods. Isaac undoes his button and zipper in one quick, skilled motion. “What are you--”

“You’re really nice, Scott,” Isaac says with a small grin. He grips the other man’s cock, stroking it slowly and Scott has to resist clawing the seats. “Absolutely fucking sure?” he asks again, looking down and back up again.

Scott stares at him, just _stares_. His eyes are glowing gold and his want is so strong it threatens to consume him. “Yes,” he grits out, even if it has a hint of a whine to it. He undoes Isaac’s pants, but he’s never been with another guy before. He’s only kissed two girls that weren’t Allison and that was about as far as it had ever gone.

Sensing his nerves, Isaac chuckles, repeating a variation of Scott’s words. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do,” Scott says and Isaac’s brows furrow. “I want to. I just-- I’ve never… _touched_ a, you know, _dude_ ,” he explains.

Isaac places a hand over where Scott’s is fumbling, “Here. Let me.” He pulls his own cock free and shifts his hips until he can press their two lengths against each other. Scott can feel the heat against him. Directing the other beta, Isaac begins to stroke, Scott’s hand moving with his. “ _Fuck_ ,” he swears, thumb ghosting over the head of Scott’s dick.

Scott’s eyes are squeeze closed, mouth hanging open, and he does his best to keep up with Isaac. He isn’t sure what he’s doing other than trying to simulate what he does to himself on a broader scale. It’s a slightly strange combination of heat and friction but it feels _good_. He pushes his hips up into it and feels Isaac move against him. “Isaac,” he says hoarsely.

Isaac lets out a breathless sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt, “Next time, you’re gonna have to fuck me.” He uses a free hand to tilt Scott’s chin up, press his mouth to the other beta’s. It’s messy, too chaotic to be considered a proper kiss, fangs clacking together and nicking lips that happen to get their way. The smell and taste of blood only intensifies the pleasure and even though Scott’s hand stutters, Isaac’s keeps going--a little faster, squeezing a little harder.

Scott pants against Isaac’s mouth. The blonde’s heartbeat is so rapid, so loud in his ears, but it’s drowned out when the other beta moans, and Scott grips Isaac’s wrist, “I’m--”

Isaac covers his mouth with his own, swallowing down the noises Scott makes as he comes. In another couple of strokes, he’s following.

Both struggling to catch their breath, they begin to hear the radio again, the sounds of the snarling on-screen werewolf. The windows of the car are steamed, nothing but blurry light visible through them. Isaac pulls Scott’s ruined shirt off of him and tosses it in the back, rummages around until he finds a sweatshirt on the floor, handing it to the other man.

“Was that illegal?” Scott asks, his dick still out.

Isaac hums, shucking his own shirt, “Probably.” He slides back into the passenger’s seat, but leans down into Scott’s lap, sucking his softening cock into his mouth, his tongue then trailing across the come he finds there and on Scott’s abdomen.

He pulls back, tucks himself in as Scott pulls on the sweatshirt and looks for his own. He’s just zipping it up when there’s a tap on the window.

Attempting to compose himself, Scott rolls it down to find himself face to face with Sheriff Stilinski.

“Boys,” the sheriff says, raising his eyebrows.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Scott greets quickly.

“ _Sheriff_ ,” Stiles’s dad corrects.

~

“We…well…” Scott blushes fiercely. Stiles is his  _best friend_  though. He needs to talk about it with  _someone_. He inhales a deep breath and scratches at the back of his neck, eyes unable to meet his friend’s. “We…” He fumbles over the words he should say. “ _You know_ ,” he ends up saying, like an embarrassed teenager.

“Oh. Oh!” Stiles’s face goes through several exaggerated expressions before he grins, but speaks almost nonchalantly, “Did you knot him?”

“That’s not a real thing, Stiles!” Derek calls from the other side of the house and Stiles grins even wider, almost maniacal.

Scott looks between where Derek is--although even werewolf senses don’t give him the ability to see through walls--and back at Stiles in confusion. He knows what it is. He studied animal biology, after all, but… “Wh-- _what_?” he stutters and the word comes out too loud and slightly flabbergasted.

Stiles waves his hand in Derek’s direction dismissively and lowers his voice, not that Derek can’t still hear him, “I know, I know. I just say it to mess with him. And I maybe--just  _maybe_ \--wrote about it in one of my books.  _Possibly_  to piss off Derek. Just a little.” He grimaces, “Peter seemed to like it though. He keeps… _winking_  at me. And emailing me suggestions.” Letting a shudder pass, he rocks on his heels and leans his elbows on the counter, propping his head up on his hands, “So…you and Isaac?”

Scott nods, ruffling a hand through his hair, “Yeah.” It didn’t matter how nervous he was about the whole thing, how weird it was, how vulnerable Allison had been with him just yesterday--just before he and Isaac… Isaac. He smiles. He can’t help himself.

Stiles takes one look at Scott’s dopey expression and straightens up again, just to whack Scott on the side of the head like the old days. “Oh, god.  _Please_  don’t tell me this is gonna be like when we were sixteen and you met  _Allison_. I do  _not_  need to hear about how pretty Isaac is or the too exact and extremely _creepy_ description of his eye color, alright?”

“They’re blue, but not like--”

Stiles holds up a hand, “Hey! What did I just say?”

Scott smiles and Stiles returns it.

The human claps his friend on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you, man.” His smile falters, “And Isaac. God, that kid needs to catch a break.”

“He’s older than you,” Scott says, raising an eyebrow at Stiles’s word choice.

Stiles shrugs.

~

Scott calls Isaac at least five times every night. Isaac actually likes it.

~

Stiles gets the call while he’s at the sex shop. Erica gives him a look, eyebrows raised, and tilts her head toward the back room. He nods at her and mouths his thanks before ducking through the doorway behind her.

He clears his throat, hits the little green phone on his screen to pick up, and ends up holding his breath another couple of seconds, heart in his throat, before he speaks. “Hello?”

Erica is listening to his call and she’s sure he knows she is, but with her concentration elsewhere, she isn’t properly intimidating the customers. A man comes up to her, coughing into his hand nervously, and she turns such a hard glare on him that he chokes. She hears Stiles’s excitement, his heart pounding, his babbled gratitude, and smiles softly. Unfortunately, this gives the customer the wrong impression--you know, the one where he finds her approachable--and holds up one of Stiles’s books. The cover depicts a bare back being clutched by a clawed hand.

“Is, uh, is this any good?” He shifts in place, eyes darting to her and away again. He looks about ready to make a run for it

Erica smirks, “ _Ohhh_ , yeah.” She plucks another from beneath the counter--bodies in a twisting embrace, the vague promise of flesh on flesh, just enough to torment the imagination. “You should check out the newest in the series. It’s my favorite,” she practically purrs. “Or, you know, you could pick up the whole set.” She’s already heard the good news, so she might as well charm a larger sale out of the customer who had so  _rudely_ \--it was a relative term, after all--prevented her from bounding into the back, lifting up her alpha’s mate, and spinning him around in all her glee. Then, maybe punching him for not telling her what he and Derek were up to.

Stiles hovers in the doorway, playing with his phone in his hands, watching as Erica proceeds to sell every single one of his works to a guy who looks on the edge of wary and excited as she packs them all up for him.

Formalities over and money in hand, Erica lets out a low growl--the kind people only seem to notice instinctively--and the man practically runs out the door, nearly dropping his bag and scrabbling to pick it up as he continues his beeline for the door.

“Thank you and have a nice day!” Erica calls as the door falls shut. She turns to Stiles, grinning. “Someone’s been keeping things from the rest of the pack, hasn’t he?” She pouts, but can only hold it for a second before she’s laughing and hugging him up off the floor. She’s squeezing him so hard he starts hitting her back and shoulders, one hand still clutching his phone.

“Breathing,” Stiles chokes, but he’s laughing, too.

She plops him back down and squeals at him.

Stiles puts his hands to his ears, “Jesus.” He’s quiet a moment, catching his breath. Then, “Shit, I’m gonna be a dad.” He holds up his hands preventatively as Erica looks like she’s about to leap onto him again.

“Congrats,” she says, calmer now. She’s still smiling, but it’s more genuine, not the huge, excited grin it started out as.

“Thanks, I-- I gotta go tell Derek.” He rubs a hand over his head.

"You're going to fuck," Erica says bluntly, an eyebrow lifted and a knowing smirk.

Stiles lets out another sound like a giggle, jingling his keys. "Yeah, of course we are." He almost gives her a disbelieving look for thinking he’d deny it.

“Have fun,” Erica teases and Stiles waves a dismissive hand at her. “Hey, you might not be able to once that kiddie--or should I say _puppy_ \--moves into your lives. Depending on how old she is, you might be changing diapers and rocking cradles for a while.”

Stiles’s smile starts to turn before he shakes it off, “Shut up, Erica. I’ll see you later. Full moon on Wednesday.”

She nods, “I’ll say goodbye to you and your freedom then.”

He ignores her, heading to his car. The drive back to the Hale house feels both excruciatingly long and like it takes no time at all. Peter’s car is there and he frowns. He doesn’t want to deal with crazy uncles when he should be relaying exciting news to his extremely attractive boyfriend and reaping his just reward as messenger of such.

Stiles opens the door to his house, thinks about just shouting, but instead, taking a second to listen, locates his mate and the ex-alpha, and storms into the room. He points to Peter, then back to the front door as he speaks, “You, out.”

“Not happy to see me?” Peter pouts and Stiles steadies a glare at him.

The two are locked in a silent staring match for only a few seconds before Stiles turns his attention to his mate, “Derek.”

Seeming to understand Stiles without further explanation, Derek addresses his uncle, “Go.”

Peter scoffs, “I thought _you_ were the alpha.”

“I am,” Derek grits out, emphasizing each syllable. “Leave.”

Once Peter has left the house and Derek has listened to his car find the road, the alpha takes a step towards his mate. “Stiles…” He closes the distance between them, inhaling deeply, scenting the younger man.

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, ducking his head down to the alpha’s shoulder. His whole body is shaking and he can’t stop smiling.

Understanding courses through Derek and he growls, lifting the younger man off the ground. Stiles feels only slightly emasculated when Derek does it--more so turned on--but it’s somewhat _embarrassing_ when Erica does the same thing. Derek mouths Stiles’s neck, scraping blunt human teeth over the sensitive flesh.

Stiles’s grips Derek’s waist with his thighs, groaning. “Here? Here is good. We can just… Yeah.” He wriggles, knowing it won’t do anything to get rid of his jeans but it would send the message to Derek. Within seconds, Derek has rid them both of their clothes, pressing Stiles up against the wall. “Lube,” Stiles practically squeaks, feeling Derek’s cock against him.

Derek holds up the bottle between two fingers, smirking.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Stiles demands, scratching his fingernails over Derek’s back and shoulders. Derek slicks two fingers and pushes them in at once. Stiles tenses for only a second before he’s moving. “You could probably just fuck me already,” Stiles says matter-of-factly, but his breathing is hard to control, harsh.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek warns, fingering the younger man with more force, causing him to whimper. It turns into a moan as Derek continues his ministrations.

“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles retorts, but his voice breaks.

The alpha growls, pulling his fingers free and pushing his way inside. It burns but Stiles doesn’t care, biting into Derek’s shoulder and attempting to move as best as he can.

Derek’s body trembles, trying to keep from moving too fast, from hurting his mate. He hasn’t in a long time, but Stiles likes to test his control--grinding against him and mouthing at whatever flesh he can find. He makes the noises he knows Derek can’t resist, says whatever he’s thinking.

“Fuck me, Derek. Come on, goddamn it, _move_. You feel so good in me. Fuck, just, nngh, I want you so bad. Please, _please_ , Derek.” He kisses him, mouth open and panting, and Derek’s hips start to move, thrusting into him carefully. He digs his nails in deeper into his back and bites at Derek’s bottom lip.

Derek moves teasingly slow until Stiles whines. He pushes in faster, slides almost all the way out only to pound into him.

Stiles’s eyes roll back and his head thunks against the wall behind, “Keep that up and you won’t even have to fucking touch me. _Jesus_.”

“Remember when you used to shut up when we fucked?” Derek asks rhetorically, quickening his pace and angling his hips. He knows the other man’s body so well, can move so perfectly with him. Derek wanted him to fall apart but instead he watches as his mate cries out, whimpers, fucks back on him until he can no longer form words.

A string of noises make their way out of Stiles’s mouth and he’s clenching around Derek, untouched cock painting stripes across their chests. His legs are squeezing Derek’s sides--it would have hurt anyone else--feet crossed and toes flexing as he groans his release.

Derek’s hips stutter and he’s coming inside him.

“Yes. God, Derek. Feels so good.” Stiles is only starting to find speech possible again.

Derek pulls out after a moment and Stiles’s legs, although shaky, find the floor. He presses a chaste kiss to the alpha’s lips and scoots past him, searching through the pockets of his discarded clothing until he locates his phone.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow. The scratches in his back are fading, almost completely gone already.

“Texting my dad to head over,” Stiles replies, typing as he does.

~

In the effort of showering and cleaning up, Stiles and Derek might have ended up having sex again. They have to stop halfway through when the doorbell rings.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Sheriff Stilinski can hear his only son shouting from inside the house. The thud of feet hitting hard against the floor comes a few seconds later and the door swings open.

Stiles is standing there, shirt backwards and clutching his hastily put on pants with one hand as the other waves his father inside. His dad steps past him and Stiles does his best to button and zip his pants as quickly as possible after he shuts the door.

His dad turns around and raises an eyebrow at him, mouth quirked to the side.

Stiles’s hair is still wet and he grabs the towel he had thrown to the floor in his haste and scrubs it over his head. “Sorry, I was just, uh, in the shower.”

At the sound of feet, the sheriff’s head swivels to see a shirtless Derek toweling his own hair dry. “Uh- _huh_ ,” the older Stilinski intones.

Stiles laughs, “Yep. We were just…conserving water. You know, for the environment and all that.” His father gives him a knowing look and Stiles throws his towel over the back of a chair. “ _Any_ way,” Stiles continues, “We have news!”

“Alright…” the sheriff says cautiously and takes the seat Stiles pushes him towards. His son’s enthusiasm has not always been such a good thing. In fact, with what had obviously been going on before--or rather _when_ \--he arrived, it only reminds him of one of the other times his son had “news” concerning himself and Derek. Stiles had probably not _meant_ that to happen when it did though.

Stiles looks toward the direction he knows Derek to be, biting his lip. “If you don’t get your wolf ass in here, I’m going to tell him without you.”

Derek appears in the dining room, phone in hand. Stiles nods at him in understanding.

“What is it?” the sheriff prompts, glancing between the two of them.

Stiles’s face splits into a giant nervous grin, “You’re going to be a grandpa!”

His father stares at them in confusion and Stiles holds his hand out. Derek places the phone in it and with a tap to the screen, Stiles faces it towards his father. The sheriff sees a photo of a baby. It’s a cute baby, but it still doesn’t tell him much. Stiles flips to the next photo, one he is extremely pleased with even if it embarrasses Derek: the alpha himself holding the tiny child in his arms, smiling down at her as she yawns and her fangs become obvious.

“What?” Sheriff Stilinski says, taking the phone out of his son’s hand and examining the picture. He zooms in on the baby’s mouth. He has the look of concern on his face Stiles was expecting.

“She’s a werewolf, a were _baby_ ,” he coos. He waves a hand dismissively at his father’s continued look of confusion. “You’ll love her, don't worry.”

~

The night of the full moon, everyone is antsy. It’s just the way it is. Stiles is wearing a few layers of clothes, freezing in the cold night air. Sure, he’ll probably end up running with them until he’s sweating--and then _panting_ , maybe some grunting, groaning…but that’s a different story--but he likes to pretend to be the adult when the the rest of the pack end up like crazed kids.

“A reminder that we do _not_ venture off the Hale property,” Stiles says, if only to preserve his innocence should any of them do so--well, _when_ they did. “Especially you, Peter,” he adds.

The moon is getting higher as he speaks and he can see them watching it, probably unaware of any of the words coming out of his mouths.

“Anyway, you guys know the rest.” He snorts as Erica starts pulling Boyd out into the woods, both of them transforming, eyes glittering and golden in the moonlight. “I would advise everyone else to not go _that_ way,” he points after them.

He receives a couple of nods. Lydia is sat on a bench a couple of feet behind them and sighs.

Derek lets out a howl and the rest of the wolves do the same, even Erica and Boyd can be heard returning their alpha’s call in the distance. He runs, sprints, out past where Stiles can see him, Isaac trailing behind. Scott heads in another direction, chasing after Jackson.

“So, Lydia,” Stiles addresses, “Bet _this_ isn’t what you pictured for your life.”

She looks up at him, rolls her eyes, then stands. Her arms are crossed over her chest, “I’m going inside.”

Stiles shrugs. Sometimes, she acts friendly with him--BFF levels of friendly--but at others, reverts back to her high school self. It doesn’t bother him so much anymore.

~

Scott and Jackson chase each other a while before Scott smells something in the air, he looks back to Jackson to find the taller wolf gone. He hunches his back, eyes shifting from one side to the other, sensing movement between the trees.

He’s tackled to the ground, another body colliding with his own. Isaac.

The two wrestle, biting and clawing at each other, shredding whatever they can touch. They roll around on the forest floor, leaves sticking to their bodies, and Isaac eventually finds himself on top, staring down at Scott, slightly out of breath.

Scott pushes him off, over, and presses his body against the other wolf’s. He’s working on instinct as Isaac scratches at him, he nips at Isaac’s collarbone as the blonde attempts to throw him off with a growl.

They scrabble with each other, tearing at clothes and grunting, Isaac ending up on his stomach. He whines high in his throat, pushing himself back against Scott. He claws at the ground, and Scott only knows want. There’s a warm body whimpering under him and he lets out a low howl, pulling back back only to shove himself inside roughly.

Isaac lets out another whine, long and pained.

It’s tight and he isn’t sure he’d be able to do anything were he not driven by instinct, but all that thrums through his body is _want_ and _take, take, take_. His nails leave long scratches down Isaac’s back as he drives into him, the blonde bucking beneath him. The slap of flesh hitting flesh fills the air, accompanies the smell of blood and sex.

Scott’s body is thrown over Isaac’s as he moves, hips pivoting, _snapping_ , and Isaac fights to keep up. It’s animalistic, instinctual, _raw_ , and Scott can’t stop. There is no voice of reason telling him no.

He pounds into the willing body as fast as he can, as hard as he can, his own body humming, close to _something_ , so close. He just needs to keep fucking, push himself to _more, more, more._ He’s coming, painting the other beta’s insides with it. He keeps fucking, wants to keep going, eased by his own release as he continues to move.

Isaac is caught between Scott and the ground, rubbing desperately against it for friction. He feels so _full_ , but it’s not enough, not enough. He grunts, presenting himself for better access as it hurts but the pain is fine, it’s nothing. Isaac knows pain, it doesn’t stop him from wanting more. Scott fucks him, thrusts feeling so good, hitting _something_ , and then Isaac is howling, squeezing tight around him as he comes, milking Scott through his second orgasm.

Unsure what happens then, Scott finds himself alone on the forest floor, in a little more control of his mind. His body is filthy, covered in leaves and dirt. He reaches up to scratch his head and finds a stick in his hair. Shamed, he follows the scent of sex back to his clothes. They’re not of very much use in the state they’re in, but his phone has some how managed to stay in his pocket and he slides his pants on anyway. He looks up at the moon and hears Isaac’s growl from a ways away.

It doesn’t take him long to find the other wolf, can see the scratches haven’t yet healed through his torn clothing, deep as they were. At this distance, Isaac’s scent is heady. It smells like him, like them.

Isaac looks at him, eyes a little clearer. They circle each other and Scott submits, offering his throat. Isaac is on him then, nuzzling his throat.

Scott tilts his head back to the house and Isaac nods. They run on all fours back to the Hale house. Stiles is nowhere to be seen, but they know where he is anyway.

~

It’s a few days after the full moon and Stiles knows the pack will be going crazy. He’s sure Erica had told Boyd as soon as she could, but she could keep it a secret from the rest if she wanted to, and _Boyd_ certainly wasn’t going to tell them. Out of people who aren’t Derek, his dad, and don’t already know-- _Erica_ \--he decides he wants to tell Scott first.

Scott has really started to become a member of the pack. It seems now like he has always been there, only when they discuss the past does his previous absence become apparent.

Stiles sucks his bottom lip in, biting back a smile. “I didn’t want to say anything before, but. There’s this kid. This…baby werewolf. And she is the cutest thing in the whole universe. I mean, you could just eat her up.” Stiles grimaces, but his happiness can’t be disguised, “No, wait. Not _really_. But you’ve gotta see her. This kid. Our kid.”

Scott blinks at him, mouth hanging open. He was starting a new relationship, a  _good_  one, despite whatever full moon weirdness had happened, and Stiles was having a  _baby_? It’s cruel of him, but he’s always thought himself the cooler one of their duo. He’d gotten a girlfriend, super strength, _laid_ … And Stiles, well… He’d always been such a  _spaz_. To hear that Stiles is going to be a dad-- _before me_ , an envious little voice whispers in the back of his head--is a shock to his system. He feels kind of dizzy, queasy, like he’s spun around too fast and his body is out of sync with his brain.

“Her parents… Well, it’s pretty tragic, actually. But she’s… I  _hope_  she’s too young to remember it. Werewolves don’t have, like, elephant memories, do they? No, no, of course not,” Stiles corrects himself and continues. “We’ve been talking about it for a while. You know, me and Derek. Her pack…is pretty much nonexistent. There are a couple of them left but they don’t want to be taking care of a baby--and it’s not like they can give her to just  _anyone_ , so when we heard, we--” He pauses, hands that had been moving of their own accord as he spoke now slowing, falling to his sides. “Scott?”

Scott swallows down the lump in his throat, retracts claws he didn’t know he had sliced into his palms. He can feel his hands healing already, but it doesn’t matter because he’s upset. “ _You’re_ going to have a kid?” he says. He doesn’t mean it to sound like that, incredulous and bitter and _mean_ , but it does. He should be happy for Stiles--and for his alpha--but he’s not. He will be, he’s certain of it. Has to be. Stiles is his  _best friend_. Stiles will be a great dad. But…shouldn’t he be the one who’s married and having kids? Shouldn’t Stiles be the fun uncle who never has kids of his own because he’s so busy with Scott’s he never finds the need?

Scott thinks of how Allison had come to him, how easy it would be to go to her now. They could get married, have kids. Their  _own_  kids, their own flesh and blood. Be normal. It’s only a fantasy, so no one reminds him that “normal” is always going to be out of reach, but he wants it so bad it burns him up inside.

He doesn’t want someone else to have it. Someone who  _shouldn’t_  have it.

“Scott?” Stiles says again, but it sounds as if he’s calling him from a distance. There’s a rushing in Scott’s ears he can’t explain. “Stop it,” Stiles demands, standing up straighter, standing his ground.

It’s only then that Scott realizes what he’d doing. His fangs are out, his claws… His eyes must be golden. It’s a reality check. He shakes his head, breathing deeply, forcing himself to become human again.

“What the  _fuck_ , dude?” Stiles is breathing out hard through his nostrils, anger and hurt stiffening his features.

“Sorry,” he says, daring to lift his head enough to let his eyes meet his friend’s. Guilt and jealousy war within him. The idea of going back to Allison sticks. She’d understand. They had been together a long time. Sure, there’d been breaks in between, but…she loved him, maybe she loves him still.

“Can’t you be happy for me?” Stiles asks. He rubs a hand over his eyes--he is  _not_  going to cry--and balls his hands into fists. “For once?” he adds, more forcefully. He’d had to listen to Scott talk about Allison every waking second after the girl had appeared, when their lives weren’t under too immediate of a threat, it was practically  _all_  about Allison. He had tried to tell Scott about Derek, _really_  tried, and Scott had never listened. Scott came back to Beacon Hills after college and he had grown up. Stiles felt like he could tell him then, that Scott would be better. Besides, he’d _have_  to get used to it if he joined the pack. Scott had grimaced and told him he didn’t want the details. It wasn’t exactly  _ideal_.

This, though? Now? This is his  _baby_. Despite his best efforts, angry tears well up and begin to roll down his cheeks. “God, Scott. Just--” His hands make an abortive gesture and he points to the door, “Get out.”

Scott looks wounded, “Stiles--” He stops. Maybe it would be better to wait, to give them both a moment to think. He hadn’t meant to offend him, to hurt him, but it doesn’t mean his feelings on the subject have just gone away. He definitely needs time to think. His expression is apologetic as he makes his way out the door, ears ringing as Stiles slams it behind him.

He thinks about calling Allison, pulls out his phone only to see a blurry photo of a dog and a text from Isaac:  _He followed me home. What do I do?_

Then, another:  _Could you come over?_

Scott feels as though the world’s come crashing down on him. He had forgotten.  _How_  had he forgotten? He'd been so caught up in being jealous of Stiles, of how he could “fix” his own situation, he’d forgotten all the good that had happened to him.

~

Stiles opens his laptop, hoping to get some writing done, or at least to distract himself with videos of kittens, but he gets fed up with the blur in his vision and ends up closing it. He pushes it away from himself and curls up on the couch, turns the TV on without caring what it’s playing, and stares at the ceiling. Rationally, he knows Scott didn’t mean to do that. Scott is a dumbass. Scott has always been a dumbass--usually a little less offensively, but Stiles knew he didn’t mean it. If someone had told him that he’d have a family before Scott back when they were in high school, he would have mock-gloated over it before laughing bitterly at the utter impossibility.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, only that his anger has turned hollow and his self-confidence is dropping back to high school levels when he hears the door. He rolls to his side, clutching a pillow to his likely red and tear-streaked face. He’s pretty sure he looks  _awful_ , but that’s why the pillow is over his face. Stiles is trying to spare Derek from having to see it--or maybe himself from  _having_  Derek see.

There’s a hand on his side.

“Go away,” he tries to say, but it’s muffled by the pillow.

“Stiles,” Derek says, shaking his head in frustration as his mate pulls the pillow in closer to his face. He plucks it away easily, hand moving to cup Stiles’s face, thumb brushing over his red cheek. “What happened?”

Stiles doesn’t say anything, tries to bury his head again, but Derek adjusts him, placing himself half under the younger man. Stiles smashes his face into Derek’s chest and sniffles, “Even if I don’t, you deserve that kid, you know. You deserve happiness.  _Family_.”

Derek’s hand strokes Stiles’s back, waiting for some sort of explanation. There’s already a rage growing inside his chest at the thought of someone making Stiles feel this way. He clenches his jaw.

Stiles flops a leg over Derek’s, snuggling into him. “’M sorry,” he murmurs, scrubbing at his face. “I’m overreacting. Don’t worry about it.” He breathes out slowly, voice quiet, “But…what if I’m not a good dad? I mean, I’m  _me_. Stiles Stilinski is not exactly synonymous with responsible parent.”

Derek rolls his eyes, and from his awkwardly slumped angle, Stiles looks up at him. “Stiles,” he says, in the same tone he does when the other man is being completely ridiculous, “You’re going to be a great dad. You practically raised our betas and they’re  _your_  age.”

“Yeah, but…she’s just a little kid. A  _baby_. I don’t know anything about babies.”

Derek chuckles and it rumbles through both their bodies, “Yes, you do. You bought all those books you think I don’t know about.” Stiles laughs--well, it’s more of a giggle, but he’s a grown man now, damn it. “You researched babies, wolf cubs,  _and_  baby werewolves, Stiles.”

“I should remember to clear my internet history,” Stiles murmurs, feeling a little better about himself. Derek places a kiss to the top of his head and they lay there for a while, comfortable in each other’s presence.

~

Scott wants to go to Isaac’s, really, but he decides it might be better for the both of them if he gives himself time to think things over. He shoots a text about being busy and goes home. His mom is there, still in her scrubs, and he can’t decide if he wishes he had his own place already or if it’s kind of comforting to see her.

He plops down on the couch and flips through the channels. His mom brings him over a plate of lasagna, another in her own hand.

“Someone brought it in today,” she explains, looking at him curiously. “So, Isaac’s a werewolf, too, isn’t he?” She knows, she’s been finding out more every day about the wolves in Beacon Hills, even helped bandage them up a few times, but Scott can tell it’s just her way of asking about Isaac. She stabs at her food, pretending to be interested in the TV.

Scott nods, “Yeah. He was bitten a few months after I was.” He pokes at his lasagna, but doesn’t eat.

Melissa McCall’s lips are quirking, trying to think of what to say. She ends up on, “You alright, honey?”

Scott slumps, leaning his head against his mom’s shoulder. He used to do it all the time when he was a kid, just…lean on her. It was nice, familiar. “I think so. I…” He sighs, “I always thought I’d be with Allison forever, mom.”

She shifts, leaning her own head against the top of his. “I know,” she says, she pauses before she speaks again. “I heard about what happened to Isaac, with his father.” She clears her throat, “After he died, there was a lot of talk at the hospital. I mean, what he did to that boy was pretty awful, Scott.”

He looks at her as best he can from his current vantage point, but she’s apparently watching TV. “Yeah,” is all he says, trying to stop himself from remembering the Laheys’ basement again. He’s not sure why she’s brought this up, can’t quite tell where she’s going with it.

“It seems like he’s grown up…well,” she finishes lamely. “But that kind of thing, it leaves long-lasting effects.”

“Are you telling me to be careful with him or something?” Scott asks, tilting his head a little to look at her better.

A small, almost sad smile forms on her lips. “I’m not sure,” she admits. “But…I think that if you want to be with Allison, you shouldn’t keep going out with Isaac.” She breathes out a long breath with a little chuckle, “Not that it’s any of my business.” She eats, waiting for a response--some kind of reaction from Scott.

Scott pulls his phone out of his pocket, can’t help smiling as he sees a new text from Isaac: _But what do I feed this thing?_

He laughs and texts back: _How can you not know?_ He stares at his phone a little longer, starts going through his pictures. He only has a couple of the other beta. There’s one of him, fully human, making claws and baring his teeth in a fake growl followed by another slightly blurry one of him him falling forward, a big grin on his face as he laughs at himself. It’s from last Thursday, when they had to run around the woods looking for Isaac’s cell phone after the full moon. They had heard a noise and it had turned out only to be a bird, but Isaac had joked that he would defend them. After all, it probably had a sharp little beak.

His mom has been not-so-covertly watching him. “He’s cute,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his mouth pulled into an almost goofy smile.

She places her mostly empty plate down on the coffee table, “Is it better for you to…be with another werewolf?” She realizes afterwards that a sexual meaning could easily be implied, but, she’s a nurse. If Scott does have issues, at least she feels fairly well-equipped to deal with sex, with the added benefit of years of werewolf problems in her memory banks.

Scott shrugs against her, “Kinda. We ran around together on the full moon… It was…easier, I guess? I mean, I don’t really have to worry about accidentally hurting him.” Even as the words tumble out of his mouth, he knows they’re not true. The memories are hazy, but he remembers the feeling, the _push_ , the way it felt to take what he wanted.

Melissa pulls away to look at her son, forcing him to shift, meet her eyes, “Yeah, you do, kid.” He sighs. “And if you _are_ serious about him, he’s coming over for dinner.”

Scott’s brows furrow and he frowns, “ _Mom_ \--”

“Are you going to break up with him?” she prompts.

He sits up, “No, but--”

“Then, we’re having dinner. Tomorrow night. It’s the day I have off and I say so,” Melissa McCall says with finality.

Scott looks down at the phone still in his hand, “What if he doesn’t want to? I don’t want to…make him uncomfortable.”

“I can call him,” his mom adds, grabbing the portable phone from its cradle.

He stares at his own phone a little longer, then hears her start dialing. “Mom, no,” he tries, but she’s holding it up to her ear. On one hand, he’s slightly mortified, on the other, he’d rather she did it. He listens to the whole phone call, short as it is, and smiles after.

She’d roll her eyes at him if she wasn’t his mom. As it is, she’s sorely tempted. Instead, she says, “Now, what would your _boyfriend_ like to eat?”

Later, he texts Stiles and Isaac both his deepest apologies.

~

“My mom is making him come over for dinner tonight,” Scott complains, pretending he isn’t excited about the whole thing.

“Stop smiling, you goon,” Stiles tells him.

Alright, so maybe he isn’t very good at it. “You smell like sex,” he says instead, wrinkling his nose.

Stiles shrugs, “That _is_ what I was doing before you called at at nine in the morning telling me you were on your way over.” He sips at his coffee.

Derek lets out an annoyed huff from a few feet away. He’s at the stove, flipping the eggs over with a spatula.

It’s weird for Scott to see his alpha like this, in boxers and a t-shirt he knows is there only for his benefit, bare feet padding across the kitchen floor as he goes to pull out plates from the cupboard. It’s all so…domestic. He can’t help but voice it, “This is weirding me out.”

Stiles looks back at his mate, then to Scott. “That?” Scott nods. “That’s normal, dude.”

Scott raises an eyebrow, “Our alpha makes you breakfast.”

“Like, every friggin’ day.” He takes another swig of coffee. “Not that I don’t still enjoy the view.” He leans back in his chair and bites his lip. “Anyway,” he adds, “do you need any tips on how to please your _own_ werewolf boyfriend?”

Scott blushes, shaking his head and staring intently down at his own coffee.

“I _thought_ that’d shut you up.” He watches his best friend a moment and decides to make him just that bit more uncomfortable, “Anyway, what’s it like to use a condom? Oh, wait.”

~

When Isaac gets to the McCall house, he has the dog with him. Well, it’s only a puppy, really, some sort of mutt. Scott isn’t sure which of them to greet first. The dog’s not got much of tail, so it’s whole back end wags excitedly from side to side.

“Sorry,” Isaac says, biting his lip, “I wasn’t really sure what to do with him. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Melissa McCall approaches the door, trying to see what Scott’s staring at. “Oh,” she says, seeing the puppy. “He’s so cute!” she coos, falling down to a knee to scratch behind its ears.

“I don’t know who he belongs to,” Isaac tells her. “I’ve been trying to find out, but I haven’t found anyone looking for him yet.”

“Should I put him out in the backyard, mom?” Scott asks, looking to her.

Frowning up at him, she thinks. “It’s pretty cold tonight.” Turning her attention to Isaac she asks, “Will he be okay in the house?”

Isaac shrugs, “Maybe?”

Melissa gives the dog an appraising look, she tells him, “You’ll be a good puppy, right?” He tries to lick her face.

“Where’d you get the leash?” Scott asks. “Last night, you didn’t even know what to feed it.”

“Erica brought it over.”

“Why would she--”

Isaac grimaces, “I don’t know why she had it. I don’t really want to know.”

Scott’s mom stands up, concerned look on her face. “Oookay, then. Come in, come in,” she says, standing back and waving him inside.

They sit down at the table and Melissa McCall tries and fails at subtlety in talking to her son’s boyfriend.

~

They never find the dog’s owner, if it had one. Isaac even goes door to door in his neighborhood to find out if someone had simply never reported it, but no one seems to know where it came from.

He sits on his couch, Scott beside him, and looks down at the puppy. “I guess we should figure out a name for him.”

“Scooby-Doo?” Scott suggests, shoving a cookie into his mouth.

Isaac laughs, leaning down to scratch under the dog’s chin. “Maybe.” He sits back on the couch, “So, what do you want to do today?”

Scott pulls his attention from the dog and looks at Isaac, shrugging, “There’s a new superhero movie out.”

“We _could_ do that,” Isaac admits, expression thoughtful, “Or, you know, _fuck_.” He holds up a condom.

Scott wants to, but after what happened on the full moon, despite the fact that Isaac had told him it was okay, that he was fine, he feels uneasy. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Isaac rolls his eyes, “It was _fine_ , I can heal.”

“You were in _pain_ , Isaac,” Scott says, voice sounding a little choked up.

The blonde shrugs, “That’s life.”

“But it shouldn’t be--not like _that_ ,” Scott protests.

Isaac scoffs at him, “Scott, you know how my life has been. At least you didn’t _mean_ to hurt me.”

“But I _did_.”

Isaac slumps. “Fine, we don’t have to do anything.” He stands up to grab his jacket. “Where’s the movie playing?”

Scott grabs his arm, grasps it gently, “I…” He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t think that’s okay.” He stands up, presses his lips to Isaac’s softly, slowly deepening the kiss into something more sensual, tongue running across the blonde’s bottom lip to request entrance. Isaac lets out a little gasp.

“What are you doing?” Isaac murmurs against his lips.

Scott laughs at the question, trying to think of the right way to describe it, “I don’t know, treating you right?”

Isaac pulls back, a look of incredulous disbelief on his features, and Scott finds that his hand is circling Isaac’s wrist. He tugs lightly, heads in the direction of Isaac’s bedroom. Once in, he kisses Isaac again, leads him down onto the bed. Scott crawls on top of him.

“I’m confused,” Isaac says.

Scott pecks him on the cheek and helps him out of his t-shirt, sliding his whole body down until he was eye level with Isaac’s semi-hard cock. He leans on an elbow, undoes the the button and fly, nuzzling his face into the curls, the strong musky scent. He works the jeans down the other man’s hips and takes his cock into his mouth. He isn’t really sure what he’s doing, but Isaac bucks and he doesn’t care. He’s trying. He sucks lightly, feeling the flesh harden further as he does, and runs his tongue over the head, tasting something unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

He pulls back, and Isaac uses the opportunity to kick his pants the rest of the way off, working on Scott’s. He’s about to push Scott’s boxers down his hips when Scott stills his hand.

Scott is half on top of the other beta, kissing him again. He slides on top of him and feels the hardness of Isaac’s cock hot against his through the thin fabric of his boxers. They kiss, moving incrementally for a while, until Isaac starts to wriggle underneath him.

Scott huffs a laugh and pushes off his boxers. He reaches for the condom and lube. He may have used one of Stiles’s books for advice here. He pours some out onto his hand, coats his fingers with it. Slowly, carefully, he presses it against Isaac’s hole. He slides it in, little by little.

“More,” Isaac whines and Scott gives him a chaste peck on the lips.

“Be patient,” he tells him. He moves the digit slowly. It’s tight and he’s inexperienced at this, but he can feel Isaac’s body relax around him. He waits long moments before he works in a second.

“I’ll heal,” Isaac says again, but his face is hot, flushed, and his breathing is labored.

Scott ducks back down to take the length of his cock into his mouth, feels and tastes the slickness of precome. He scissors his fingers a little, stretching, breathing through his nose as he continues to if not suck at least _mouth_ at Isaac’s cock. He presses his fingers in deeper and hears Isaac’s sharp intake of breath. The blonde grips the sheets.

Scott knows he might be going too fast, but he pushes in a third finger, tries to do what he did again.

He can see Isaac’s chest heaving and the blonde huffs a little laugh, “I want to come with you inside me and I just don’t know how possible that’s going to be if you don’t stop.”

Scott nearly chokes, having to lift his head off and stare up at the other beta. After a little longer, he slides his fingers out. He tears open the condom, rolling it onto his cock with trembling hands. He slicks it further, pushing Isaac’s knees up, holding him open. He lines himself up.

The brunette takes a deep breath, and pushes in. It feels _so good_ , but not like it was in the woods, dry and rushed and fairly uncomfortable. He gives Isaac a moment to adjust and begins to move ever so slowly.

Isaac wraps his legs around Scott’s back, pulling him in.

Scott’s looking into his eyes as he begins to thrust, setting up a steady rhythm.

Isaac wants to throw an arm over his face, and does, but after a moment, he moves it, sees that Scott is still _looking_ at him. “Why?” he asks.

“Can you feel it, Isaac?” Scott murmurs. “Us, moving together. Feel me inside you?”

Isaac nods and Scott slides a hand between their bodies, gripping the blonde’s cock and stroking it in time with his thrusts. Isaac whimpers. “I don’t really understand, but…you’re kind of killing me here, Scott.”

“Good.” Scott kisses him, long and slow, hips and hand increasing their speed as he does and Isaac has to break it off to moan, arms wrapped under Scott’s and up his back.

Isaac squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m going to come, I can’t-- Sorry.”

Scott moves faster, wrist jerking quickly and watches Isaac bite his lip, throw his head to the side, his whole body tensing as he comes, and Scott can feel it so clearly this time. The stickiness shooting up across their chests and the convulsions around him. He waits, tries to pull out once Isaac has finished, but the blonde tightens his legs.

“Keep going, I want you to-- to come,” he shifts his hips.

Scott looks at him, “You sure?” Isaac nods. He braces his arms on either side of the blonde and keeps thrusting. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming with a groan of Isaac’s name.

They lay together afterward and Isaac swallows down a lump in his throat, “That was…intense.”

“Sorry,” Scott says, but he’s smiling.

“I liked it,” Isaac adds, blushing.

~

It’s taken a while for all the legalities to be wrapped up, but everyone knows it’s happening soon, has been stashing things in each of their houses to prepare while giving some to Derek and Stiles. Jackson had been surprising in his giving of baby gifts. They were new, but everyone had a feeling they had to do with Lydia. Lydia will not consider children until after she’s reached every single one of her goals--and it’s a _long_ list.

The whole pack wants to be there when Derek and Stiles go to pick up the baby. Stiles is very careful then not to tell them when and where they’re going. In fact, in early December when they _do_ go, he forces Derek to take a separate car, going a different direction, and leaving at a later time.

He meets Stiles a mile or so outside of Beacon Hills, rummaging through baby books at a used book store. “Are we ready for this?” Stiles asks, flipping past pages on how to teach your child and what to do when they get sick. Stiles pulls another from the shelf.

Derek takes them from his hand and Stiles makes a whining noise in the back of his throat. “Come on,” he says, pulling the younger man out of the store. Once outside, he cups Stiles’s face between his hands. “Are you okay?”

Stiles pulls in his lips, biting at them inside his mouth, and nods.

Derek’s thumb strokes across his cheek. “We’ve already done the paperwork, Stiles. You’re already her dad. _Laura’s_ dad,” he emphasizes and Stiles starts to smile. He kisses him. “Now, let’s go.”

~

The pack, minus Peter, receive a mass text to meet at the sheriff’s house, so, with some confusion, they do.

Although they’ll barge into the Hale house without question, they’ve made promises not to do the same here. They hesitate outside the house after Scott--being that it is _his_ best friend’s childhood home, where he had played and run around--knocks on the door.

Stiles answers it, smiling at the group. He knows they can tell, smell someone or something here that they don’t know. He stands in the doorway, preventing them from rushing in. “Slow,” he says and Erica feels as though the word is aimed particularly in her direction.

The group, in a messy line, proceeds into Sheriff Stilinskis living room and are met with the sight of Derek and Stiles’s father on the couch, a baby on the sheriff’s lap.

Erica makes grabby hands at her sides. Boyd grabs her hand and she pouts, but she can wait another _minute_ \--only that though.

Allison steps out from the kitchen and Scott swallows down a lump in his throat. She looks between him and Isaac, nods.

He smiles at her but it feels awkward, forced. He feels like he’s betrayed her now that they’re in the same room and Isaac is so close at his side, but she doesn’t seem upset about the whole thing. Isaac twines his fingers with Scott’s and Allison smiles at them.

Stiles clears his throat but it goes unnoticed over the noise of whispering and cooing. He glances at Derek and the alpha lets out a low growl. Every single head in the room snaps to attention.

“Dad, would you like to do the introduction?” Stiles asks the sheriff and his father nods.

His dad stands up, holding the baby to his hip. “This,” he says, “is Laura. She’s my granddaughter, and, I guess, the newest member of your…pack.” The word makes him uncomfortable but he smiles, bounces the child and she gurgle-growls at them. “And if you want to hold her, ask my son permission first.” He lifts his eyes to the ceiling and recites what he’s been told to add, saying it with a hint of sarcasm, “That means you, Jackson and Erica.”

The two blondes look at each other, hoping the other will stand down. Each wants to be the first to hold the baby. Eventually, after something of a staring contest, Jackson backs down and Erica steps forward, shaking her hand from Boyd’s. “Stiles, could I please hold her? I _promise_ I’ll be careful.” She does her best puppy dog eyes at him, pouting.

“Yes, you can,” he tells her, smiling.

She grins, “Thanks, mom.” She approaches the sheriff, holding out her arms to him. Carefully, and somewhat resistantly, he hands Laura over. The baby growls and Erica tickles her with her finger. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” She gets her finger too close to the little girl’s mouth and the baby wolf takes the opportunity to nibble at her. She coos harder.

The sheriff looks like he wants to do something, but he simply breathes out and clenches his fist at his side. “Careful, she bites.” He shakes his head. “God, that’s something I never expected to say of my first grandchild.” He looks around the room, “What am I saying? I’ve got a house full of werewolves.” Plopping back down on the couch, he smiles at Derek. “Best of luck, son.”

After everyone has a turn and Jackson nearly _drops_ the baby, Stiles takes her into his own arms and begins to chastise the wolves. Scott gets a text from Allison and heads into the kitchen with her.

There, they find Lydia sitting at the table, formulating something on her tablet.

“What?” Scott says automatically.

She looks up at him disinterestedly, “I can’t let Jackson see me with a baby. He’s weird enough about it already.”

The two nod and she returns her attention to her tablet.

“I’m happy for you,” Allison says.

“Really?”

She scoffs, “Of course I am. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I wanted you to spend the rest of your life pining.” She plucks a carrot from a vegetable platter Stiles had likely forgotten about, “From what I hear, you two are good together. You make a cute couple.”

Lydia snorts from her seat at the table.

“Thanks,” Scott tells her earnestly. “At first, I thought you might be mad.”

She waves a hand at him dismissively, then blushes, “To be honest, I’m kind of seeing someone, too.”

“Oh?” Scott says. It still bothers him to hear it, but it lessens the guilt and he can hear Isaac’s voice in the next room, reassuring him. “Who?”

“His name is Peter,” she tells him and his eyes open wide in concern. “Not _him_. Lydia may have forced Danny to set me up with one of his friends, but it’s actually going pretty great. And…he’s a hunter.” Her mouth quirks.

Scott tries to not look like he’s freaking out, “Like…your dad? …Or like everyone else your crazy family?” It comes out that way accidentally, but Allison laughs anyway.

“Like my dad. The good kind, with the code.”

~

A couple of hours later, Isaac brings the dog over and the baby practically leaps out of Scott’s arms to get to it. The group watches as the baby snuggles into the puppy’s fur and falls asleep.

“This is ridiculous,” Boyd has to say.

~

The day done and the rest of the pack forced out of the house, Stiles collapses onto the bed in his childhood room. He sighs contentedly as Derek follows him in, holding the baby.

“You owe me,” Stiles says as he scoots over in his old, small bed to make room.

Derek lifts an eyebrow in response.

“I straight up told you Scott and Isaac were gonna get together.” He had only been joking when he said it. He knew something would happen there, with how Isaac had looked to Scott back in high school and the way the two just seemed to click. When Scott had joined the pack, he had made a comment only to receive one of Derek’s typical “you make no sense but I love you anyway” looks.

Derek turns Laura and places her on Stiles’s chest, huffing, “Still not sure you aren’t a witch.”

“Whatever,” Stiles replies, shifting to rest his head on Derek’s shoulder.

Laura just drools.


End file.
